Percival Wemys Madison
by noodleashy143
Summary: Another English Project. explores the change from civilized to barbarian through the eyes of little Percival


A/N- We had just finished reading a play based on the minor characters Rosencrantz and Guildenstern from Hamlet. Our assignment was to write a story using a minor character from one of the books we have read. So here we are. Some parts are right from the book. It's a one timer.  
  
Oh and I don't own Lord Of The Flies.  
  
Percival Wemys Madison  
  
"Percival Wemys Madison. The Vicarage, Harcourt St. Anthony, Hants, telephone, telephone, telephone," he mumbled under his breath without realizing he was doing it. He was in the middle of building a rather large city in the sand. "Percival Wemys Madison. The Vicarage, Harcourt St. Anthony, Hants, telephone, telephone, tele-"  
  
"What's that?" Johnny asked.  
  
"What's what?"  
  
"What you're saying, your name or something."  
  
"Oh," Percival replied, his cheeks flushing slightly. "I learned it all by myself. Wanna hear?" He once again recited the information, as if he were reading a script. "Isn't that neat?"  
  
"No," Johnny scoffed. "Any two year old can memorize their name."  
  
"Nuh-uh!" Percival replied using the only comeback he could think of.  
  
"Ooo look at me! My name is Percival and I can say my name! I'm the smartest person ever!" laughed Johnny. With that, Percival's eyes began to well up. Memorizing his address was, after all, the single greatest achievement in the span of his six years. Before the tears could spill out, the boys saw two figures in the distance.  
  
Roger and Maurice came out of the forest. They were relieved from duty at the fire and had come down for a swim. Roger led the way straight through the castles, kicking them over, burying the flowers, scattering the chosen stones.  
  
"Oops. There goes the school," Roger cried. Kick. "No more town hall!" Kick. "Was that your house? So sorry," he replied sarcastically. Maurice followed, laughing, and added to the destruction.  
  
The boys could do whatever they wanted with no grown-ups to tell them what to, or what not to, do. Roger and Maurice laughed at the littluns as they walked farther down the beach to the swimming hole.  
  
Percival couldn't take it anymore. After Johnny's comment, and the destruction of his intricate city, the tears came. And came. And came. He rolled over in the sand burying his face in his hands. He blubbered and cried like there was no tomorrow.  
  
Henry, who was playing nearby in the sand, pulled himself off the ground and jogged over to Percival. "Hey Percy, don't worry about it. We can always rebuild the sandcastles. Don't worry about Roger, he's just a butt- head. Ralph will punish them. He's in charge now."  
  
Little Percival sat up and rubbed his face with his sand-covered hands, sticking sand all over. "Do you think we'll ever get home?" he asked.  
  
"Sure we will. A grown-up will find us in no time I bet. They'll see the fire at the top of the mountain and come find us tomorrow I bet!"  
  
"I hope so. I miss my bed, and my doggy, Ben. I don't like it here with all these boys. It's so scary at night. It's d-d-dark and there's the b- beastie and and and I miss my mommy!" Once again he started to tear up. "Percival Wemys Madison, Harcourt, Harcourt, Har." he muttered to himself in an attempt to calm his nerves.  
  
Timmy ran up to the boys shouting something about eating cuts. In his attempt to meet them as fast he could he didn't notice the rock sticking out and fell. Percival, Johnny, and Henry ran over to comfort the boy. After several minutes of pointless jokes to get his mind off his scraped knee, Timmy finally managed to stop crying long enough to explain why he was there. "Ralph's called a meeting at the cuts. C'mon!" he managed to get out in between heaves.  
  
All four littluns headed over to the huts. When they heard the blow of the conch, they headed over to the logs where all the boys were assembled. The meeting had already begun, and it seems as if all the little boys were afraid.  
  
"There was another one. Him."  
  
The littluns pushed Percival forward, then left him by himself. He stood knee-deep in the central grass, looking at his hidden feet, trying to pretend he was in a tent. Tacidly admitting that he remembered the unmentionable, Ralph nodded to Piggy.  
  
"Now tell us. What's your name?"  
  
"Percival Wemys Madison. The Vicarage, Harcourt St. Anthony, Hants, telephone, telephone, tele-"  
  
As if this information was rooted far down in the springs of sorrow, the littlun wept. At first he was a silent effigy of sorrow; but then the lamentation rose out of him, loud ad sustained as the conch.  
  
"Shut up, you! Shut up!"  
  
Percival Wemys Madison would not shut up. The crying went on, breath after breath, and seemed to sustain him upright as if he were nailed to it.  
  
"Shut up! Shut up!  
  
"And what about the beast?"  
  
Something strange was happening to Percival. He yawned and staggered so that Jack seized and shook him.  
  
"Where does the beast live?"  
  
He sagged in Jack's grip. Percival muttered something and the assembly laughed again. Ralph leaned forward.  
  
"What does he say?"  
  
Jack listened to Percival's answer and let go of him. Percival, released, surrounded by the comfortable presence of humans, fell in the long grass and went to sleep.  
  
Jack cleared his throat, then reported casually. "He says the beast comes out of the sea."  
  
After the news of the beast, or beastie as the littluns spread, the mood became much more subdued on the island. All of the boys felt they needed to join together to defeat whatever monster there may be. Even the littluns felt the urge to join the soldiers. No-one wanted to listen to Ralph, or build huts, or keep the fire going.  
  
Several months later, Percival was walking through the woods picking berries with one of the other littluns. The came across a stream and followed it. At the end of the stream there was a pool of water. The boys decided to go for a swim and jumped in. He and Johnny were no longer mad at each other, and could frankly care less if Percival knew his name or not. They were having a grand time splashing in the water. "Ooo stop you're getting me wet!" Johnny shrieked laughing.  
  
"See I told you I wasn't a baby! I'm not crying about getting wet," shouted Percival from the top of a ledge. Then he jumped off doing a cannon ball right next to Johnny dousing him.  
  
The two swam over to the side of the pool and climbed out. "Hey what was that thing you did with your name. I was just playing I really don't think you were stupid or anything," Johnny admitted staring at his feet which were in the middle of making a small hole in the soft mud.  
  
"Who cares! That was really baby-ish and I'm a big boy. I don't need to remember my address, cuz we're never gunna get home anyways. It doesn't really matter anyway. This is our home now," Percival shrugged. "C'mon. I think Jack was looking for everyone. He can't find Ralph."  
  
The boys followed the trail out of the woods. When they were near the edge, they smelled smoke. "It smells like smoke. Stop, Drop, and Roll!" Johnny commented.  
  
"You only stop, drop, and roll if you're on fire butthead." When they reached the beach, the two boys noticed that Ralph was being chased by the rest of the boys on the island. "Oh I wanna play!" Percival and Johnny rushed back to the rock wall and grabbed some paint. They didn't notice the smashed conch or Piggy lying on the ground nearby. The littluns ran back to the beach but stopped when the noticed the crisp, white suit and hat. Underneath the suit was a man. A real man. None of the boys had seen one in many, many months. Self-consciousness swept over them all. A grown- up seeing them in such a state changed something about them.  
  
Other boys were appearing now; tiny tots some of them, brown, with the distended bellies of small savages. One of them came close to the officer and looked up.  
  
"I'm, I'm-"But there was no more to come. Percival Wemys Madison sought in his head for an incantation that had faded clean away.  
  
Ralph's voice rose under the black smoke before the burning wreckage of the island; and infected by that emotion, the other little boys began to shake and sob too. 


End file.
